


spectacular sensation show

by Valkiria_jv



Category: Alice In Wonderland - Lewis Carroll, Meinhard (Band)
Genre: Horror Elements, M/M, Mysticism, humor elements, light spirit of insanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 18:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14795958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkiria_jv/pseuds/Valkiria_jv
Summary: A story about memory, the Cat, the Hatter and the benefits of tea. The Hatter drinks tea and remembers too much. And the Cheshire Cat...Illustration by Alexandra Panther.





	spectacular sensation show

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [spectacular sensation show](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12161913) by [Nightday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightday/pseuds/Nightday). 



_It's easy - just boil tea_

In fact Cheshire wasn’t a thin dark-haired man of about thirty. He always took the form that his companion would enjoy the most, and no one knew what he actually looked like. And it was a bit doubtful if there was that ‘actual’ look. Was there the real shape of the one who called himself the Cheshire Cat, but was not a cat? Or rather, sometimes he _was_. One day on sprawling branches of an old tree there was a white cat, the next day the tree itself piped up with a toothy grin and the other day a little black squirrel[1] jumped off the branches and introduced itself as the Cheshire Cat too. When the Hatter saw the Cheshire Squirrel for the first time, he tried to remember what exactly he had added to his tea and how long he had boiled it, but he couldn’t remember anything odd. Just because he could remember nothing at all. It was high time to call himself ‘dumb’ instead of ‘mad’, but he didn’t call himself ‘mad’ that time either.

The squirrel, in the meantime, with incredible speed turned first into a wolf (the Hatter jumped aside), then into a human. A fair-haired woman, who laughed sonorously at his stunned look. A rather pretty woman. But this appearance remained only for a couple of moments and then the Cheshire Cat transformed into a thin young dark-haired man, and since then he always took on this guise when he met the Hatter.  
It was high time to take thought about his own narcissism as the guise seemed, maybe, not like the Hatter’s mirror reflection, but a recognisable portrait with the features a bit changed – especially, the smile exposing long sharp fangs… When Cheshire smiled, nearly grinned, the Hatter had to hold himself back with a desire to touch his own teeth and make sure that there’re no such inhuman fangs.

The Cheshire Cat was the most powerful creature in the Wonderland. He had everything here within his power, although he said that he’s the same inhabitant as the other ones. As the little mouse, rustling in the grass, as the tree swaying in the wind, as the birds flying in the sky… The same as everybody and everything. Capable of being anyone at any moment. And then the grass rustled by itself spreading away like colored threads, the mouse turned into a cat, the cat crumbled into birds vanishing into the emerald, no, purple… yellow sky.

The Hatter suspected that the Cheshire Cat is the Wonderland itself, its demiurge, the fickle creator.  
The Hatter remembered that the ones who tried to talk about that soon fell silent forever.  
The Hatter remembered that they just disappeared, were erased from the world. They were forgotten as if they had never been known.  
The Hatter remembered.  
When there were too many memories, he boiled some tea.

 _Today or, maybe, yesterday but, probably, tomorrow_  
Today had not turned into yesterday yet, but it was almost tomorrow. The Hatter was reading the Book. He obtained it with great difficulty and was sure that it is completely unique. The Book contained the History, the story about the Wonderland – from its very beginning up to, probably, the end.  
Something soft got onto his shoulder. The Hatter automatically tried to flick it off and touched something warm and furry. It quickly wriggled out of his fingers. The Hatter swore and had just thought about brazen mice when a familiar voice stretching vowels sounded over his left ear:  
“Don’t pull my tail.”  
The Hatter turned his head slowly. A huge white cat with dark-blue eyes was sitting on the back of the couch. The twitching tip of his tail didn’t seem damaged, but definitely outraged by the blasphemy.  
The Hatter swallowed silently.  
“What are you reading?” The Cat asked with a fanged grin. The tail tip friendly bent a question mark.  
“A book.” The Hatter said chokingly.  
“Great!” The Cat said it in such a joyful way that the mockery was almost inaudible. “What an unusual book!”  
“What is so unusual about it?” The Hatter watched as the pupils narrowed and blue flame flared in the Cat's eyes.  
“See for yourself.” The Cat's smile widened.  
The Hatter looked at the Book to see the letters changing places and the lines scattering in different directions. Separate words, some sentences and whole paragraphs were spinning on the pages, slowly shrinking to the point and disappearing.  
The Hatter was looking at blank pages.  
“It’s empty” The Cat said. He circled the back of the couch touching the Hatter’s nape with a fluffy side. “It’s a very, very unusual book! How can you read it?”  
The Hatter put it aside.  
“I drink some tea and read then.”  
His shoulders got squeezed with fingers of hands appeared from the void.  
“So make it again.” Now the voice sounded over the right ear. “Don’t try to learn the things you’re not supposed to know.”

Several clocks were ticking on the wall displaying different time. The Hatter was sitting on the couch alone and watching the clock hands spinning with different speed.  
There was no Cat. And the Book either.

 _Definitely tomorrow_  
There was an old book on the table, but it wasn’t the book he had read yesterday. The Hatter approached carefully, took it with the tips of his fingers, thought for a while and threw into the fireplace.  
The flames weaved into a fanged grin, but the Hatter didn’t see it.  
He was boiling some tea.  


**Author's Note:**

> [1] 'To get little squirrel' (рус. "Словить белочку") in colloquial Russian is used to describe alcoholic delirium condition.


End file.
